


Courage

by orlesiantitans



Series: 100 Themes [18]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Post-Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four hours old, and already she terrified him. He was going to have to get over this fear before he could hold her, that much he was sure of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courage

Cullen had faced down his demons, lead an army of the faithful and almost lost his wife, yet this was possibly the single most terrifying moment of his life. Ellana was at the side of the room, fast asleep among a mountain of pillows, but he was not with her. He was stood next to the crib at the side of the room, staring down at the tiny person inside of it.

Each breath in made her entire body move. Her hands were braced above her head, legs bowed out to the side as she slept and he briefly wondered how she could look so restful in such a position. His fingers went down into the crib, ready to grab onto her fingers, but he backed out at the last moment, moving his hand back out. She twitched in her sleep and made a soft noise. He panicked for a split second and flailed in concern- Ellana needed her sleep, if he’d woken up the baby…- but she settled down again as if he’d never gone near. He let out a long breath, relaxing visibly.

He’d not held his daughter yet, too scared to allow himself that. She was so soft, so innocent, and doubts plagued his mind. What if he hurt her? Even accidentally, he could never forgive himself. That wasn’t even counting the evil he’d done, the blood that was permanently on his hands. Ellana had offered her to him earlier, but he’d simply shaken his head and let her continue to hold her, content to watch. _His daughter_ , his mind reminded him, and he felt another stab of disbelief. He had a _daughter_. A _child_.

Four hours old, and already she _terrified_ him. He was going to have to get over this fear before he could hold her, that much he was sure of.

Then she blinked open her eyes.

Big, golden-brown, like his. Her hair was already in ringlets atop her head, orange fuzz that he hoped would take on Ellana’s deep red as she grew older, or even glow dark orange as Leliana’s did. Anything but the dull brown he often saw redheads end up with, losing all hint of the richness it looked destined for.

She let out a soft whimper, and once again he felt his arms fly up defensively, eyes looking towards the bed in concern. Ellana was still asleep, but even that slight sound had caused a crease to form between her eyebrows. Carefully, shaking slightly, he reached in and picked up the child- _his child_ \- lifting her as securely as possible into his arms, against his bare chest. She gurgled slightly, and blinked up at him curiously, almost as if she was saying ‘hello there, who are you?’

“Hello,” he whispered, voice rough. “I’m… daddy, I suppose.”

He almost held out a hand to her, feeling instantly foolish. A flush climbed up his cheeks. Lavellan women had a habit of causing him to embarrass himself. The fateful meeting with Ella’s Keeper came to mind, how the woman had given him a lecture on what elves enjoyed in bed, followed by various different methods of birth control- “that is, if you’re not already trying”.

The girl in his arms whimpered again, and he let out a sigh. _Please don’t make me, I don’t usually sing alone, I’m no singer…_

But she was apparently unhappy about something, and a quick check confirmed she wasn’t hungry, nor did she need changed. He kept his voice soft and sat down in one of the chairs, keeping her awkwardly cradled in his arms.

_Many nights we prayed,_

_With no proof, anyone could hear…_

Gently he continued a song he vaguely remembered from his childhood, sweet memories of his mother singing it to he and his siblings, holding them close and telling them stories of Andraste. His father, who’d been painfully practical and dubious of religion in general had always sighed affectionately at his mother when she made up songs and told the children about the Maker and His Bride. But they’d loved each other, it was abundantly clear, something that comforted him when he mourned them. They were together at the Maker’s side, he had to believe that, even if his father would have scoffed at the idea.

“That’s better, hm?” he whispered, and his daughter cooed up at him, wriggling in his arms. He let out a soft laugh, head falling to rest against hers. “There. No more tears.”

He bounced her slightly, thumb slowly circling her tiny fist, letting out a gasp of surprise when she grabbed onto his forefinger, pulling it down to her mouth. He might have flinched at the feeling of a tiny, gummy mouth biting his finger, but he didn’t. He stared in fascination, instead, at this little girl who he loved more than he thought possible. She stopped gnawing on his finger after a moment and let him wipe it off on his trousers, smile slipping into place.

They were able to sit in silence for all of thirty seconds, before Lion trotted over, the mabari staring up at the baby with a somewhat questioning expression. The dog, who had been living with them ever since the Inquisition disbanded, began to snuffle at her, and Cullen reached the hand not still holding her down to scratch him between his ears.

“This is my daughter,” he told the dog conversationally. “And she’ll need to be taken very special care of, alright?”

The dog seemed to understand, and for a second it seemed the three of them would sit in silence. Then, Lion took it upon himself to lick the little one’s face. Friendly, he seemed to think. The baby and he seemingly disagreed on this point.

She screamed. Cullen stood up as Lion backed away, whimpering pathetically. Shooting his mabari a look, he worked on trying to comfort her.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I know, it’s all new and scary, but it’s really okay. You just be brave, and I’ll be brave, and we’ll get through this together, hm? I’m scared too, but it’s alright, you’re-”

He glanced over at Ellana, who was sitting up in bed, eyebrow raised.

“She okay?” she asked, yawning halfway through the sentence. He nodded, letting out a sigh.

“Lion tried to give her a welcoming kiss. She didn’t like it. At all.”

His wife laughed at that, and held out her arms expectantly for the little one. She cooed down at the baby and began murmuring something in elven, a long stream of words he didn’t understand. He just watched, transfixed, and felt Lion’s snout nudge at his hand as he did. Rolling his eyes at the attempted apology, he gently moved his hand to pat the dog’s head before joining Ellana in bed, putting his arm around her. She sighed.

“We still haven’t given her a name.”

He mused over it for a moment. He’d been thinking about it for months, poring over all the books he could find in search of a name.

“Aislinn,” he murmured, hand going to the back of his daughter’s head. “It means… dream.”

Ellana tested it on her tongue a few times.

“Aislinn Rutherford. I like it.”

“I’m glad.”


End file.
